Night into Dawn
by Sarenaria
Summary: Meg, a 15 year old girl part of the gang Demons, was perfectly content with her sadistic nature and the criminal activity she and her companions took part in. However, once she faces a situation she never thought she would, her entire existence is questioned as she asks herself what purpose in life she serves. [MegxCastiel, real-world de-aged AU. no smut]
1. Opened Curtains

** Chapter 1: Opening Curtains**

"S-stop! Or I'll…or I'll!" the girl exclaimed from her position against the wall, squealing like a little pig in a slaughter house. Her small body shook in fear as she dragged herself down the wall. "Tha—"

I shoved her back against the brick walls of the alleyway while laughing like it was the funniest thing in existence. She was just adorable. I wondered if she actually thought that she could stand a chance against us. I just loved pseudo-tough prey like her. She was hand-picked, actually. I found her and I knew that she sure as hell did not take kindly to it.

"Aren't you the cutest little thing, I could just eat you up." I taunted, puffing my lips out mockingly.

"N-no! I was ju— I will end you, Meg!" she exclaimed to me (since my name is Meg and all), her tattered arms pounding against the surface of the wall as a couple of the demons secured them more effectively in place, not allowing for any more movement. "I will end all of you!"

"You've overstayed your welcome on our little domain," someone from our gang (which, by the way, we decided to call _Demons_) jeered, flashing her pocketknife. "What were you doing? How did you get here? Tell us."

"I followed you here!" the girl said. She gasped as one of the Demons slammed their fist into her stomach, silencing her quickly.

"Well, look here, we've a thinker in the house, now don't we?" a soft drawl highlighted by its overly dramatized Scottish accent spilled from the back of our tightly knit group.

The Demons immediately dispersed as their almighty, powerful king (that is sarcasm, in case I didn't make it clear enough) stepped towards the girl.

"C-Crowley," she snapped, pushing herself up to the fullest height she could muster in her weakened state. I really had to wonder why she even tried to look dignified at all. She was an absolute mess.

"Look what we've fished from the playground, a makeshift Hunter-kid who decided she could play with the big kids," I pointed out with a smirk.

(Oh, let me take a moment to explain who the Hunters are. They are just this group of kids who decided to try and hunt us gang members and stuff down. Great, right? A lot of their parents worked in the police area, so that's where their inspiration must have spawned.)

"And it's little, 'ole Jo," Crowley said in his mocking voice made even more unbearable by the bored quality in it.

"Screw you!" Jo panted, trying to keep her head up as sticky red streamed from her upper brow.

I leaned in closer to her, grinning broadly at the fear hidden behind her eyes. "What are you doing here? You should be at home with mummy and daddy, shouldn't you, hotshot?" I insisted in a tone that an overexcited mother would use to a baby. "Oh wait," I added, delivering the punch line of my joke.

It had the exact effect I was aiming for. A pained noise tore from her throat as she practically threw herself at me, screaming insults as best as she could. Of course the little munchkin couldn't launch herself that far, seeing as my buddies had enough of their hands full with her.

"You're just a pathetic bitch who can't do anything!" Jo screamed.

She was starting to annoy me, so I socked her in the jaw. The Demons around me burst into laughter in the deserted end of the street, edging me on. It was quite motivating.

Jo let out a small cry of pain as her head slung to the side from the force of my head. I found it very amusing how easily you could break a little kid like her, or anyone really if you tried hard enough.

I withdrew my hand and punched her again, nearly beside myself with exhilaration. Adrenaline urged me onward and the affects of the booze I had downed earlier even more so clouded any form of a conscious that tried to worm its way into my, well, consciousness.

Jo fell to her knees this time, groaning when her bare skin tore as it made contact with the sandpaper-like surface of the dusty, crumbling brick wall.

Hey, I never said I was perfect or even a remotely likeable protagonist. Whoops, sorry, did you think I was? Think again. But, give me some credit; at least I was loyal to my cause.

So anyway, for the most part, I just wanted her to beg for her life. I quite enjoyed it when they did that.

I crouched down as her head bowed and she seemed to finally decide that it may be in her best interest to look away from me.

She blinded herself from us for the first time.

Yeah, as if that would do any good, right?

I wouldn't allow it, so I curled my fingers around the bottom of her face, forcing it upwards; forcing it to face her nightmare directly. There were tears beaded at the corners of her eyes and trailing down her dirt-scrubbed cheeks. The pain she had hidden from us prior was written all over that pretty face of hers: in the upward curves of her eyebrows, in the parted, downward twists of her lips, in the choked noises emanating from them.

I felt something stirring in my chest.

I ignored it.

Instead I, like the compassionate person I was, allowed the impulsive smirk spread cross my lips.

"Oh, what a pretty face you have," I cooed, shoving one of my hands from my pockets as the others continued to scream insults at the girl and shove her around. "I almost feel sorry that it had to be such a little girl who ventured into our territory, aren't you?" That was a lie, obviously. I snatched my own weapon of choice (a switchblade) from the torn folds of my back pocket.

As I prepared to make ribbons of the little girl's face, a loud shout seemed to shoot itself from across the dying walls of the alley.

"Get your hands off her, you sick bastards!"

"Ah, the Winchesters," A demon hissed, glaring at them with amusement-ridden eyes.

I quickly spun around on my heels in time to catch my first glimpse of the Winchesters today. Dean stood at the mouth of the alley, eyes screaming revenge. His leather jacket swung lightly against his stocky form and the feathery, light colored hair that swept against his pale forehead appeared black in the shadows of the alley. Behind him his kid brother stood (for reasons unknown to me; why would he bring the 13 year old here?) with his arms held slightly from his sides. The raging, unrestricted fury in his eyes inspired quite a bit of shock from my end.

I found it delightful, actually.

I took a teasing step forward.

"Two against five!?" I said, my own shout slicing through the air towards some of the only few people that many of us truly feared.

"My, look what we have here," Crowley said. "The squirrel and overgrown, baby moose. Are you two that desperately suicidal?"

"Let her go!" Sam said in his still developing, boyish voice. "Or you sonsuvbitches will get it!"  
How cute. Sam was mimicking his older brother. I just found it so endearing that I couldn't help but laugh again. I wasn't the only one. A demon followed suite, as well as a couple of the others idiots.

"But she followed us here," Crowley said, as if he was insulted by Sam's comment.

"Looks like she wanted to play with the big—"

I wasn't even able to finish my sentence.

Noise exploded from the small space confined by the walls of the abandoned buildings.

Dean had thrown himself against Crowley, sending him practically flying into the wall. Instantly, two Demons shoved Dean back as he tried crushing the gang leader's head against the brick.

Insults were bellowed into the sky as the rest of my team assaulted the seventeen year old, trying to their best abilities to pull him away from their dictator of a leader.

Sam seemed to think it would be an excellent idea to enter the fray. He grabbed his own blade from his coat pocket whirled around to my general direction. He lashed out with his weapon and I leaped away from his vicious slicing easily. He really had no idea how to use that knife.

Grinning broadly, I laughed again and slammed him against the wall the moment his attention was averted by his misfire. My heart began pretty much skipping in excitement while I grabbed his wrist, crushing it with in fingers.

It was all instinct; I had no time to think. At any moment I could be attacked myself. Who knew what sort of back up the Winchesters had in store? Or if they even had any back-up available, which would be the more favorable happening.

Sam grunted as his hand instinctively released the knife. It plunged to the floor and landed right next to my foot.

Feeling that I just about had it made and it would be a victory for us this time, I kicked the knife from our general vicinity, shoved a hurting Sammy to the floor and gave myself a moment to admire my handiwork.

To my surprise, I felt a sudden, huge weight crash against my lower back. I uttered a short exclamation and felt the floor come too close for comfort before I slammed down on it.

A slicing pain shot across the place where my skin made contact with the concrete. For a second I couldn't see anything and had no concept of what the hell was happening around me until I came to the conclusion that the little girl had to have fallen on me.

I was obviously not going to let a little Smurf beat me, so I forced myself to turn around on the floor so I'd claim the upper hand. I felt my face grow hot and uncomfortable and was very grateful for the darkness. How did I let her get to me!?

Of course, I'd have no problem in throwing her off, and so that's exactly what I did. I twisted myself around completely and jumped from my spot on that disgusting floor and Jo quickly rolled off of me. After she landed, she wasted no time in trying to get up to at least her hands and knees, but of course she was too messed up to even accomplish this task properly.

In the heat of my embarrassment with myself and with the sound of my heart roaring in my ears, I slammed my leg into her side. She collapsed once again and I felt satisfied with my achievement.

Now it was time to check the status of my colleagues. There was no need to worry, not that I actually gave a crap about them, because Alister (one of our more bloodthirsty companions) and another Demon had Dean in a tight hold against the wall. Crowley was already taking care of the little kid that I had left in an awkward position on the floor. His hand was pressed against Sam's throat with the rest of his body shoving him against the wall.

The Winchesters didn't seem to have any back up and I really couldn't believe our luck.

I was the only one empty handed at this point, so I grabbed Jo's hand for an added effect and shoved the girl to her knees.

"Looks like you've bitten off a little more than you could chew this time!" I exclaimed.

My personal sense of pride welled up in me. We actually had the Winchester boys at our mercy this time! Now that was something to celebrate about.

"I'm going to kill all of you bastards, you mark my words!" Dean hissed, fighting to get loose and failing.

And that was when we heard the characteristic nerve-wracking bang of a firing gun.

That got my attention.

I felt my smirk melt off my face as I whipped around. Who fired the gun? If it was the police…

A moment of silence submerged the area. Ally or enemy? Who managed to get their hands on a gun? It was nearly impossible to salvage one around here unless you died trying.

And that was worrying.

And then my eyes caught the bottom of a fluttering overcoat.

**End of Chapter 1**


	2. Black Angel Wings

**Chapter 2: Black Angel Wings  
**

I wasn't sure if I should have felt relieved, screwed, or turned on. Relieved because it was nothing but Castiel who had just arrived, screwed because it was Castiel who arrived (who was the son of someone in the A.N.G.E.L.S group, which were an even higher police rank and actually existed, instead of the makeshift Hunters), and turned on because that angel boy was cute as hell.

"Ah, Castiel, nice of you to join us," Crowley said, looking up Castiel while simultaneously trying to restrain the flailing boy he held captive.

"Cas?!" Dean exclaimed from the wall. His voice contained a definite tone of astonishment…and horror.

Castiel turned to them and pulled the gun to chest level, pointing it directly at Crowley. "Let them go," he said in his slow, slightly monotonous voice.

"Oh, come now, Castiel," Crowley said, keeping his eyes fixed on that gun which could easily tear away his pathetic life in an instant. "There's no need for that. We were only playing around. Would you like to join us?"

A look of utmost confusion slammed down on Castiel's face. "What? No. Why would I want to join you?" He shook his head and plowed on. "Any…anyway, if you don't let them go I will shoot you."

"Well, that escalated quickly, didn't it?" Crowley commented dryly.

"Oh, Castiel," I said, quickly letting go of my victim and zigzagging to him as he followed me with his gun.

I smirked at him and batted my eyelashes in a mockingly seductive manner. I was certain that he harbored a sweet spot for me for some strange reason and I was going to use it to my advantage. Of course I felt nothing towards him, but he did and that was all that mattered.

"Stay back, Meg, I have a gun," Castiel said, his voice slightly raised as a result of his annoyance.

I chuckled quietly and crossed my arms, looking defiantly up at him. "I know you do, Cas. I just wanted to say hi."

"Hi," he said stonily.

"Hi Castiel," I replied.

"Let them go. If you will not, I will call the police."

"You haven't already?"

Castiel paused.

He hadn't thought this through, had he?

"I haven't had the time…"

The rest of the demons burst into laughter and I could almost smell the exasperation and quick depletion of hope from Dean's end. My grin intensified and I added on to the laughter with great enthusiasm. Was he seriously that stupid? He was just like the Winchester idiots he was glued to; shoot first and then think of what the hell actually was going on after they were stuck in the mousetrap. How adorable.

The sound of gunfire exploded around the square of land once again.

Silence followed obediently.

It was funny how someone who had a heater in their hands suddenly became God.

"I am giving you all five seconds," Castiel said, slowly moving the metal weapon in a wide semicircle around him, all pretense of discomfort gone from his face. "If you don't leave—all of you— I will start shooting."

We didn't have much of a choice, did we? I never saw Castiel actually shoot us before even though we met up a couple of times before, but then again, Castiel hadn't _had _to shoot, since we all left before he could anyway. For all I knew he could have been a trigger-happy maniac that would shoot our heads off the moment we stepped out of line.

Castiel jerked the gun in the direction of the guys that had the older Winchester locked against the wall and to our great displeasure, he was quickly released. The gun cocked towards Crowley once again, this time with his finger planted on the trigger, and he dropped Sam like he was a hot potato.

Once the brothers were reunited, they glared menacingly at us and flung some choice words in our general directions.

When Castiel still wouldn't lower the gun, we really had no choice but to call it a day. Crowley hastily (but, of course, still with that smugness written across his face in permanent marker) said, "Alright, let the dream team over there have their moment of pretend victory, shall we?" With that comment of permission, the rest of the demons absconded the hell out of there.

I wasn't very eager to linger myself, but made enough time to give the hunky angel boy a wink before I scampered to the back of the alley and began scrambling up the metallic fence (since the three stooges were blocking the actual exit to the alley) that lead to the other side of the street.

With a final glance back as I rushed after Crowley and the others, I watched as Dean ran over to Jo. There was panic and fear in his voice intermingled with pain as he frantically checked if she was okay. Sam nervously hovered over the two, practically dancing on his toes.

After that, I couldn't help but let my eyes drift back to Castiel. The gun already nestled itself in the inside pocket of Castiel's jacket and he was executing his normal staring-at-the-sunlight squint in concern.

And then Castiel's eyes met mine.

He stared at me for a moment and I found that I was having trouble looking back.

There was something in his eyes that made me stop dead in my tracks as I began clambering down the other side of the fence.

I couldn't understand what it was, really.

Whenever we met each other he would give me that look. What was that look? What the hell did he want from me?

The fence was dividing us. He stood in the weakly glowing moonlight beside his other two comrades. I clung to the gate, basking in the darkness that the top of the building provoked, on the side of the Demons.

The look Castiel was giving me really pissed me off.

I averted my eyes quickly as I let go of the metal, landing so hard on the opposing sidewalk that my knees bent and I stumbled.

Why would I care about any look that I was given? Oh, that's right: I wouldn't.

I began my trek back to the my crap hole of a house, shooting furtive looks around for any police officers that may have decided to venture out for a nightly stroll. I actually had a whole list of idiot law enforcers at my tail who (though they had no actual proof I committed the crimes) would love to snap those silver ringlets around my wrists.

I never care about what anyone thought of me, let alone some boring, stupid law-worshiping knucklehead like Castiel.

So, of course I didn't care.

The street was deserted.

The Demons had fled quickly without checking if I escaped quickly. I couldn't even see their silhouettes in the blackness.

I didn't care, I was used to it. We were always on our own.

An image of Castiel's face flitted across my mind momentarily. I watched, once again, that look appear on his face.

It was…of disappointment? Hatred? Disapproving?

_I don't care! _I thought gleefully to myself. _Let that little brat die! _

I grinned broadly.

But, it wasn't real, of course.

**End of Chapter 2**


	3. Crowley

**Chapter 3: Crowley**

"Meg, a word," Crowley's voice hissed from my side.

Several days had passed since our run-in with the Winchesters and Castiel, and I was casually leaning against the street corner, shaking the spray-paint bottle I had stolen from that store down the street behind me. It was a Sunday so I could walk more freely and didn't have the police looming over me for cutting classes.

"What?" I said, quickly shoving the spray paint back into the plastic bag I smuggled it out with. Hey, what if he wanted some? I wasn't willing to share. I went through a great deal of trouble getting it anyway and I didn't need the little twat to get his beady eyes on it.

"How about some action, hmm?" he suggested in his all-knowing tone of voice.

I turned back to him and raised an eyebrow. I felt the beginnings of a smirk cross my face. Some action? That sounded promising. At the moment, I was bored as hell with nothing to look forward to except the prospects of some good graphitizing the school building's outer walls. I would eagerly welcome any sort of actual action that would be my salvation from boredom.

"Alright, sounds good, what do you want me to do, oh great mighty ruler?" I said sarcastically.

He shifted a bit closer to me and I felt his disgusting breath on my cheek as he leaned in to my ear. I grimaced and made to pull away, but ultimately didn't.

"You remember our, ah, friend from yesterday? The one with the gun?" Crowley whispered to me.

"Yeah," I replied, my interest rising.

"Well, you know how hard it is to get guns around here, don't you, Meg?" Crowley hissed in my ear.

I thought about what he was asking me to do.

"Well, that's lazy and manipulative, why don't you get it yourself?" I said, crossing my arms, not bothering to keep my voice low.

"I've got other things to take care of," he explained.

"Other things, huh?" I echoed disbelievingly.

"Oh, yes," he agreed, "other things."

I let out an exasperated sigh and since I really was bored and the prospect of saying hello to the angel boy didn't seem all too bad, I said, "What exactly should I do, then?"

"Well, you just need to snatch the gun from him, that's all," Crowley said innocently, but I knew exactly what he meant by _snatch the gun. _"And maybe give him a shave below the neck, if you get what I'm saying, sweetheart." Well, there it was.

I shifted my weight onto one leg to give me a few seconds to consider this. "Why would he just be strutting around with a gun in his pocket?"

"Because his daddy wants to keep his little soldier safe, since he doesn't seem competent enough to do it himself," Crowley explained. "I know for a fact that he'll have it. He always does. I kept an eye out for him."

"My, I didn't know you swung that way, Crowley" I joked. "I'm betting he doesn't bring it to school, he's too much of a goodie-good to do that isn't he?"

"Right you are," the overdramatic Scottish voice said, the owner of it pulling himself away from me. "Get it today, alright? He'll be bustling around with his holy trio and you just tag along on his way home."

"And make him kick the bucket along the way, hmm?" I reasoned in an undertone, as there were a couple of people walking down the streets and some of the cars vibrating on the street in front of me had their windows wide open.

"That's the general idea," Crowley replied. "It'll handicap the rest of the Winchesters since they do seem like they are on pretty good terms."

"Wouldn't that be risky as hell?" I reasoned. "If we had that kind of crime hanging over our shoulders?"

"Well," Crowley said. "Do it if you have to, if there's no other way to get that gun."

"Fair enough," I agreed, feeling a small twitch of excitement in my stomach at this newly appointed mission.

"Well, go on your way then," he said with a triumphant smile. "Last I saw the Winchesters and their BFFsie they were hanging out in the McDonalds on Lived Street by that old dumpster. Don't disappoint me."

I looked up at the sky. Being October and all, the sun enjoyed setting around 6pm, which was around the time I was outside. The sky was a tinted orange hue which seemed to bathe the tops of the buildings in a pumpkin like shimmer. It would be eaten by the impending darkness soon, so I didn't have to wait to long to attack. Hopefully Castiel would walk home alone that night.

"Right," I said, shifting my weight to the other foot and taking a step away. Without a farewell, I began down the street, making a mental map to that McDonalds place. It would only take a couple of minutes to get there.

I reached into my pocket and felt around for my switchblade.

_There it is, _I thought as my fingers brushed against the wooden case.

I kept my head bowed the whole way as I walked towards the shop, my purpose vivid in my minds eye.

I would just stalk Castiel for a little while and slam him against the wall. Before he would do anything, I'd grab his gun and I'd be off. I wouldn't even have to kill him. It seemed very simple and I knew I could have no trouble in taking care of it. I was beyond capable. I did a great deal more with relative ease before.

_You could do it._ _But, will you do it? _A voice in my head said.

I told the voice to shut up.


	4. Castiel's Offer

**Chapter 4: Castiel's Offer**

It was really boring watching the group of three eat in that store. They seemed to be taking their time and were talking quite animatedly about god knows what. Dean seemed a lot more relaxed and kept rolling his eyes at a confused looking Castiel. Sam was pretty much ecstatic with being able to hang out with the cool older kids. (That was sarcasm, by the way. Neither Dean or Castiel were even remotely _cool._)

I hovered around the door outside the shop and walked around a bit so I wouldn't look too suspicious. When would they get out already?

The sun had completely deserted us at last and I saw the moon peeking out over one of those taller trees surrounding the store. It emitted a faint white glow that provided the tiniest bit of light. But, the weakly lit streetlamps bypassed its shine by far. A small breeze rustled the leaves on the trees which whisked through my hair and slammed against my skin. I shivered.

_Hurry up already, idiots! _I thought to myself, getting irritated.

I took a moment to acknowledge that it was full before I finally noticed a series of movements from within the McDonalds. My pulse quickened. Were they finally going to get out?

My predictions were accurate. Sam quickly tossed the wrappers that they left behind from their sandwiches into the trash while Dean tugged his leather jacket on. That clueless Castiel just stood up and gazed awkwardly around. He didn't even take off his overcoat when it probably was stiflingly hot in that disgusting restaurant. That one in particular must have had a huge heat bill because they believed the normal temperature a human should live in was 102°F.

I couldn't be seen by any of them yet, so I quickly darted to the side of the store. I pushed myself up against a small slab of bricks attached to the building that was not punctured by a window and waited.

Waited. Waited. Waited.

I was so tired of waiting for those parasitic, slug-like creatures who called themselves Sam, Dean, and Castiel and I nearly lost my patience a few times and threw my knife at them.

Once they finally stepped outside into the darkness, I exposed myself somewhat into the light, since they had their backs to me anyway. I waited a few more seconds so that they wouldn't hear me once I began stalking them, and then began walking.

"Hey, Cas, you wanna come over or something?" Dean asked Castiel. "It's still not late. Dad wouldn't mind."

_Crap, _I thought. _Say no…say no…come on, say no…_

After a moment of consideration and a great deal of pleading from my end, Castiel slowly said, "Hmm, no. I'm supposed to be home after dark, Dean. I will see you tomorrow."

"You sure?" Sam asked sadly.

"Yes," Castiel decided, stopping where the roads parted into separate paths. "Goodbye, Sam and Dean."

"Bye, Cas," I heard Sam and Dean echo one another.

Before Castiel turned around, Sam quickly called back, "You have your gun, right? It's pretty dangerous out here at night."

"Damn straight," Dean agreed.

"Of course," Castiel replied with a curt nod.

_Yes! _I felt like dancing.

I think.

They parted with one last farewell, the Winchester pair going one way, and Castiel departing the other way. I felt a smirk cross my face as I sauntered after Castiel, making my footsteps as quiet as possible.

The street was deserted, as was the sidewalk. I mean, this was a pretty crappy part of the neighborhood, so most people avoided it. But I found it pretty astonishing that I didn't see one person or car in sight. It usually wasn't this empty.

_God is looking over me today,_ I thought sarcastically. _He supports my decision. _I stifled a laugh. There was no god as far as I was concerned.

Though, the emptiness was extremely lucky for me, anyway, almost unnaturally so. Everything today seemed to fit together like a jigsaw puzzle for a kindergartener. It was just too easy.

The streetlamps here were weakly flickering as Castiel moved swiftly across the light that illuminated the sidewalk, trench coat fluttering behind him. His shadow was elongated so much by the lights that it nearly touched my feet.

I hastened by walk so that I was in his shadow.

There was no need for secrecy now. This road led to the dumpster if you didn't turn left at the last moment, and there would be no houses around here. Well, hardly any, since living next to a smelly garbage deposit was not exactly the ideal image for a dream home, was it?

No one would be able to witness my theft. Great for me.

I finally let my footsteps be heard.

Castiel stopped walking.

I stopped walking.

I put my hand to the pocket where I kept my switchblade.

Excitement began to light up in my stomach.

Castiel walked a few paces.

I walked a few paces.

We both stopped at the same time.

"I know it's you, Meg," Castiel said.

I blinked in surprise.

For a moment, I wasn't able to say anything. How could he have known? Did he see me?

Whatever. That didn't change anything.

"Hello Castiel," I said offhandedly. "What's up?"

"Why are you here?" Castiel wasted no time. He turned around to face me, his permanently narrowed eyes glaring at me, trying to figure me out.

"I just thought I'd say hi," I said, repeating my words from earlier.

Castiel didn't fall for it this time.

"What do you want?"

"Just a little chat," I replied.

"Okay," he paused. "I'm listening. What do you want to chat about?"

"Stuff."

"Stuff?"

"Yeah, stuff, Castiel."

I moved a bit closer to him. He did not move back. I recalled all the times we met up with each other as I moved.

We would always stare for a moment.

Just look into each other face as we passed by in the hallways. As we passed by on the streets. As we passed by as enemies. As I beat up his friends.

And he would always look at me in that way I could never figure out, as he was doing now.

"What do you want?" he repeated.

I stepped even closer to him.

"I already told you, didn't I?"

"No."

"Come on, Castiel, you heard me."

He allowed me to come directly in front of him, so our faces were about a foot apart. He did not back away. His expression did not change.

The gun was so close to me now. So close. I could just reach in his coat and grab it.

I hadn't thought this through well enough.

How would I reach him in time?

And then, the perfect distraction came to me. It came to me so suddenly that it even impressed (and honestly scared) me that I would consider doing it.

But, it was the only way to get the gun.

In one swift movement I had him pressed against the wall.

And I was kissing him.

It felt warm.

For a moment, Castiel didn't move at all. I had distracted him, just as I planned. My hands were working their way into his trench coat where the gun would be. But then, my mind went blank. I had forgotten what I was doing this for.

I had forgotten that I felt nothing for him.

My arms wrapped against Castiel's body instead, pulling him closer.

It felt good.

He was kissing back.

We stood there in the weak ray of light that the streetlamp provided. For that moment, no matter how cheesy-love story material this sounds, nothing existed except us.

_What are you doing? _My mind tried to wake me up. I wasn't like this. What was I doing? Was I actually enjoying this?

I broke away from the kiss.

I looked up at him, watching his eyes meet mine. I didn't want to, but I was grinning at him, and it wasn't a forced grin. He then, to my astonishment, grabbed my shoulders and whirled me around. And then he was kissing me again. His hand pulled against my head and around my lower back. I didn't think of what I was doing and pulled my fingers against the back of his trench coat again.

It felt really, really good.

And then we broke apart again.

I looked at him slyly, pressed up against the wall.

"What was that?" I asked him, my smirk pulling against my cheeks.

He didn't reply immediately. His glare once again was on me, though his expression seemed to soften. His eyes no longer contained the loathing they seemed to previously when he looked at me.

"Why'd you kiss me back?" I asked him, still dazed.

"Because," he paused, seeming to be searching for words. "I've had my eye on you and I wanted to give you a chance."

"A chance?" I asked him, feeling the heat of his hands on my shoulders.

"Yes. A chance," he echoed. "A chance to change."

It was impossible to tell what he was thinking. For a moment, I became silent. The gravity of the situation hadn't hit me yet, and my only concern was Castiel.

"Change?" I said. "Change? What do you mean, sugar pants?"

He then broke away from me completely, stepping back. I quickly regained my footing and stepped away from the wall as well.

His next words sounded regretful. "Why are you in the gang, Meg?"

"Why am I in the gang?" I echoed, raising my eyebrow slightly.

"Yes, that's what I just asked," Castiel replied, his tone suddenly more businesslike.

I looked at him. Wasn't it obvious?

"Because the world is going to the dogs," I said and my voice sounded exasperated. "Every man on his own, and all. It's a dangerous world out there, Cas, without friends. So, I went and got some."

Castiel looked back to me. "Why are you hurting people?"

Somehow, I had my answers ready the moment the questions were asked. "Because I'm fighting for my gang."

"Why are you fighting for your gang?"

"Because they are the only ones who understand."

"The only ones who understand what?"

"How it is, Castiel. The world."

"I don't think they do."

I paused. I shook my head. "Castiel, you don't understand anything. You live a nice, comfortable life, don't you? Always goody good, everything is set in stone for you isn't it, angel cake? You've got your rules and your purpose; you know what you're supposed to be doing, don't you? You know why you're alive. You know your cause."

Words failed Castiel for a moment. "Well…"

"I don't have a cause like that. I didn't have a reason to get up in the morning. To what would I be getting up? What for?" I said. "My compassionate parents?" That was sarcasm. "The loving teachers?" Sarcasm. "For my shithole life?"

"For a brighter future," Castiel said in a heartbeat. "To be able to _find_ a cause."

"And so I found my cause, Castiel," I told him. "My cause is with my gang. You see? It all works out. I get a reason to live and I have people who depend on me… at the price of other's pain. Maybe I want to show them the real world outside their white picket fence."

"Why would you want to do that?" was his response.

"You're so nosy, aren't you?"

"Maybe I am."

I had nothing to say to that.

"The Demons gang are not your friends, Meg," Castiel said in a quiet tone. "If it benefitted them, they would kill you. They would kill you the moment you are no longer necessary."

"But I am very necessary, I kick ass like a maniac. They would never not need me," I said.

"But you're okay with this? Knowing that they would trade you in for a few dollars, for example?" Castiel asked.

"I have no other choice," I said.

"You do have a choice," Castiel countered. "You always have a choice."

I bit my lip inside my mouth. Why was I listening to him? I needed to get the gun from him already. I needed to leave and go to Crowley… It wasn't as if I actually care about him at all. It wasn't as if I cared about what he was saying…

I needed to exact my revenge on the world for what it did to me. It left me half the time on the streets with nothing to go back home to except a hysterical, drug-addicted mother and violent father. A father who already went to prison twice and left me alone with my suicidal mother.

I needed to exactly my revenge on the world for leaving me alone with nothing. It left me alone in a shack sized house in the middle of the worse neighborhood you could imagine. It left me alone in a place where I was assaulted every time I was seen; a place where my body was favored amongst the older boys and men. It left me in a place where I was alone with no one. No one.

How could he even begin to think what I had gone through? How dare he compare himself, who pretty much had it made, to me who had nothing?

But, I couldn't help myself. I just couldn't stop myself from listening.

"You don't have to hurt people anymore, Meg," he told me.

I still didn't say anything.

I was cold.

"There is a difference purpose you can serve. There are other people who can rely on you and befriend you," Castiel said.

I let out a hollow laugh that held no amusement. "There isn't anyone like that by now. I pretty much destroyed anyone's chance at liking me when I slit their throats or devastated themselves or their friends."

"What about me?" Castiel asked.

I paused again.

"What about you?" I asked, pretending not to understand.

"I can be your friend," he said.

I shook my head, slowly at first, but then it increased in vigor. "No, Castiel, you can't be my friend. That would make you have to be bad, and me having to be good, which would suck."

"Why would it suck?" Castiel asked.

"I just don't fly that way."

"Why not?"

I was getting annoyed.

"Stop psychoanalyzing me, Cas," I demanded, crossing my hands. "You live your life and I'll live mine, I didn't ask you to help me or anything."

"You kissed me," he pointed out.

"So?" I responded, feeling my face, for the first time in a situation like this, grow hot.

"You cared enough to do that," Castiel replied. "You just risked your status in your gang. You…you do realize that, correct? What if one of them was watching?"

He had a point.

"Think about what we've talked about," he said finally. "And when you are ready for an alteration in your lifestyle, my door is open."

With that, Castiel left, and I was alone once again, feeling the gravity of my situation slam down on me. Did I really just open up to him like that? Did I actually hold a civil conversation with him? Was I really considering what he was saying? Why did I kiss him and not snatch the gun? I kissed plenty of to-be victims before to take things. It always worked; nothing like this ever happened before. I felt nothing towards him! Nothing! Why was this happening to me?

In summary: What the _hell_ had just happened?

**End of Chapter 4**

* * *

**Author's Notes**

Thank you to everyone who took the time to read my silly love story. I appreciate it greatly, especially those who took the time to leave reviews and to follow it. I would just like to address some of the reviews:

**To Jenny: **Thank you for taking the time to review! Yes, I have a few chapters planned before hand, which is the reason that I updated quickly. :) But, I'm sorry, this is a Megstiel fanfiction and I can't really fit in any Wincest!

Also, if it is your deepest, utmost passion and ambition to send me hate reviews, please do so in a language that I understand! No, Japanese is not a language that I understand, anon, and Google translate is not a very good translator.

Once again, thank you to everyone else who took the time to review my work! It inspires me to continue writing. :) I hope you will enjoy the rest of my fanfiction!


	5. You knew?

**Chapter 5: You Knew?**

"I didn't get the gun," I told Crowley the next day in a would-be-casual voice.

"I know," Crowley replied.

He said nothing more and for a moment I was shocked. What did he mean that he _knew_? There was no tone of anger or anything of that sort in his voice. It was just conversational even though I had failed his mission.

"You know?" I asked him warily.

"Ah, yes, in fact, I do," Crowley said.

With that, he left.

**End of Chapter 5**


	6. Realization

**Chapter 6: Realization **

A few hours later, I was walking back home.

First thing I noticed was that the lights were out when I got there and I stopped to wonder where they had gone. My parents, I mean.

My house was as far from an actual house as you could get. First of all, it was a cheap-ass townhouse. In other words, it was connected to other house-like things and stretched across the sidewalk about ten "houses" down. Yeah, normally townhouses are fine and all, but not these.

They were ridiculously dirty with graffiti sprayed all over at random, usually with curse words or on occasion their signatures. I did my own graffiti a few houses down the road too and they never figured out that it was me, unlike many others who meet a different fate which involved police officers and handcuffs. Not very pleasant.

The townhouses were all the ugliest shade of green imaginable, with the paint peeling off to reveal the dirty whiteness underneath, which had turned white by now. Trash was strewn about at random all over the front of the spaces that led to our individual homes. Many of the windows in this area were boarded up with stereotypical wooden planks, since many people's actual windows were smashed.

I walked up to my door, pulling my jacket a bit closer to my body to muffle the cold that kept biting at me. Why did it have to be that cold this time of the year?

I pulled out my key, jammed it into the lock, and opened the door.

I entered the house and felt something hard against my foot. I looked down. It was a broken bottle. Of course, why was I not surprised? A bit annoyed with this, I kicked it outside and shut my door. I locked it carefully so dirt from the outside wouldn't successfully claw its way in.

I automatically flipped the light switch that was beside the broken, overstuffed couch. The light didn't turn on. Did my parents forget to pay the electric bill again? That was typical. You know what, at this point I just didn't care.

I worked my way over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of beer, feeling silent fury pound through my brain along with a dull ache. Oh god, was I getting a headache on top of all of this?

But, in all honesty, I wasn't as angry as I would have been under different circumstances.

Yesterday, after my little meeting with Castiel, I could think of really nothing else.

I tried to convince myself that being with the Demons was good. But, of course, it obviously wasn't, considering it was filled with evil, sadistic bastards such as myself. But hey, my one goal in life wasn't to be a goody-good little girl, was it?

I easily could beat the crap out of a girl a lot younger than me and sleep perfectly fine that night. I was capable of a great deal of nasty things and feel absolutely no regret.

Well, that's what I thought at least.

I stumbled over the loose floorboard as always during the trek to my room, which was the first door to the right in my hallway. As I sat on my bed with a bottle of beer firmly clutched in my hand, my mind began to wander to Jo. When I was actually beating her up, it felt great. I felt as if I were exacting my revenge to the world. I felt as if I were doing something for my cause, and let me tell you that's one of the best feelings in the world.

But, how was I so capable of destroyed such a young girl?

After all, she wouldn't do us much trouble. Not really. She would probably hang around and report us to her mom or something. It would be fun even and certainly nothing that we couldn't handle. We just beat her up for the hell of it and to show who the bosses of the world were. Of course, that was completely BS because taking out our anger on some puny little girl would not raise our statuses.

But, regardless, that's what we did and that was what I did. I hit her the most that day, as I normally do for every one of our victims. I relished the looks on their faces as I pinned them to the ground and whispered insults into their listening ears.

But I felt no remorse at all.

Until after I had talked with Castiel.

I didn't usually speak to him on a normal, conversational basis before then, actually, except to shoot dirty insults or mockingly flirty comments.

Well, I guess I actually did do that quite often.

While I had him exactly where I wanted him at the mercy of my words, I didn't need any more. But, I always had my eye on him. I didn't even realize it, but I couldn't escape the fact that I relished the bouts of attention he would show me. I was quick to decide that he relished them just as well.

I was fine with our little arrangement, because it wasn't as if we could go any farther, obviously.

But then, I realized I actually could have him as mine; my own brave, little unicorn. Did he love me when he kissed me? I think maybe he did. Or was he doing it just to try and convert me as a _follower of goodness _or something?

I wanted to think that it was out of…something more than that.

_What are you thinking?! _I demanded of myself suddenly, shaking my head quickly to clear it. Why was I even thinking about this? Of course I didn't have any feelings for him. That would be completely ridiculous and puke-worthy.

I flicked open my beer and put it to my lips, drinking deeply as if this liquid could wash those thoughts from my mind.

All the while I was in contact with him I never actually acknowledged what was happening to me.

I was falling in love with Castiel.

That was why I kissed him when we were alone, pressed against that wall while I still had him at my mercy. It wasn't because I wanted to get the gun at all.

I don't think I even have to tell you that I was using it as an excuse so that I could possess that boy just for a little while. You probably already could have guessed.

With those thoughts came a small pang of regret at what I had done to Jo. Yeah, sounds cheesy, doesn't it? Me finding some unicorn and falling in love with it and poof, suddenly I was good?

Yeah, hell no that I was really good.

I just thought that maybe beating up an innocent child wasn't exactly the best thing to do. I would lie, steal, and cheat all I wasn't really without a single doubt even after my conversation with him.

But that little girl…

I still felt her small wrist in my grasp as she was struggling to get away from me. Come on, even I could see how despicable that was at this point. Actually, I wouldn't be surprised if everyone in our group did too. They just remained silent because they knew no other way, wasn't that right?

But, then again, all I wanted to do was serve my cause. Isn't that what everyone wished for?

A sudden knocking at my door jolted me out of my thoughts. Yeah, that was weird. Who the hell would try to contact me at (I quickly checked the clock on my wall) 8pm?

Well, I guess it wasn't that hard to figure out.

I tossed my empty bottle on my bed and strode over to my door in a bored, almost deliberately slow way. I didn't expect anyone that I would care enough to respond to would be there, anyway. The curtains were pulled over the tiny windows right next to the door, which was the most well-functioning thing in the house. Yeah, that's pathetic, you're not wrong to think so.

I shifted the fabric to the side to check who had knocked. I guessed it was probably one of the rejects on the streets or something.

And of course, I was mistaken.

Deep inside, I knew that it had to be him.

It was Crowley. Yeah, the so-called king who I had spoken to only a few hours ago.

Why did he have to pester me now?

Out of the corner of my eyes, I spotted something moving behind Crowley. This moving thing looked like a dark shadow, since there wasn't much light in this area. But, it didn't take a Sherlock Holmes to figure out what it was.

Crowley had brought company.

Now that threw me off guard. Why the hell did he bring his cronies along?

I had no idea what the idiot Demon had in mind, so I sighed and opened my door.

I think that marks the moment when my world decisively came crashing down around my shoulders and I stopped having a clue about what was going on.

**End of Chapter 6**


	7. Panic

**Chapter 7: Panic**

I was running.

The night's events were flooding my mind in the kind of blur you'd get if you had a concussion and woke up in the middle of a crowded street.

_What just happened? _I found myself screaming in my head. _What did I just do? _

I continued to run. I almost tripped several times while dashing blindly through the darkness.

What _was_ I going to do? Where could I run now? Who would I turn to? In the span of thirty minutes, I had lost so much. And for what?

I was alone.

There was nothing except the muffled steps of my rubber-soled shoes on the pavement. Nothing. There was nothing.

I was numb with shock at what had happened. I couldn't feel anything. My mind was ridiculously devoid of all thoughts as the events re-winded and were put on fast-forward in it. It was like watching a movie instead of my life.

The only thought I could manage through all of this was _damn it, damn it, damn it. _

Crowley had dragged another victim into my house.

Into. My. House.

Why would he do that?

_Stop thinking about it, _I told myself as I sped through the deserted sidewalk.

But how the hell did I expect myself to forget the event that would potentially force me to live a life in hiding like some sort of fugitive? _Oh god. Oh god._

At this point, my breath came out in painful gasps and sweat coated my shaking body. I don't know how many times people use this cliché, but my knees felt like water. I could tell you about ten different books off the top of my head where I heard that cliché, but it's accurate. Really accurate.

I leaned back against a building, focusing on steadying my breath.

_Calm down, _I told myself. _Calm down._

Where was I going to go?

I didn't really register what was going on, really, so it wasn't that hard to think more clearly than I would have hoped.

_You need to go somewhere to hide, _I told myself.

_Where? Where do I go hide? _I asked myself.

_To the only person who will take you in, _I replied.

Only person who would take you in.

I closed my eyes and tilted my head back. I let it just rest there.

I listened to his words in my head. I listened to his tone of voice and his absolute calmness.

_"Think about what we've talked about," he said finally. "And when you are ready for an alteration in your lifestyle, my door is open."_

He told me his door was open. Those were the words he said.

He was the reason why I destroyed my life. I already hated myself for it. My hatred was so deep rooted in myself that I knew I would never be able to get rid of it, not really. How could I have done what I did? I was loyal, I swore I was loyal.

And I went and turned around like that?

You're supposed to just find your cause in life and do everything for it. I found my cause, god damn it. Why did I have to throw everything away because of what a stupid asshole angel boy said?

I wanted to cry. I actually wanted to cry. And that made me hate myself so much more that it was painful. I actually felt physical pain over how much I hated myself.

_Stupid bitch, _I said to myself. _You are a stupid bitch._

What was wrong with me? What was I doing?

I was just broken. I broke myself. Castiel broke me.

No, I guess that wasn't the problem.

My love was destroying me.

Ha, ha, wow _damn _that's so cheesy. I can't believe I'm actually writing this B.S down. Holy crap.

But hey, that's as accurate as you are going to get with how I felt. It didn't even make sense to me. Why would I break down so horribly _just _because he talked to me _one time? _That's not even realistic.

Why…why…why?

As I stood there alone, trembling and on the verge of hysteria, I realized that I already knew the answer.

This wasn't a one-shot deal. Castiel had been picking at me forever to give up my life. I could see it in that look he gave me each time we met. It was hatred and disapproval.

And it was pleading.

And each time, I was listening. I understood his message. I guess he must have slipped it into our conversations. But, he drilled it into me until I was unable to get it out. I was trying so hard to fight it. I tried drowning it out with a bottle of beer and a nice beat down of innocent civilians.

But, it never worked.

I was always listening and I always knew that one day I would crack. I would crack and destroy my life. I just knew it.

_Its fine, _I told myself suddenly. _Its fine, you can get out of this situation._

_ But they are going to kill me! _My mind screamed back at me.

_Shut the hell up. You need to go to Castiel now, I heard he takes in wayward devils, _I told myself.

I pushed myself from the crumbling brick wall I leaned against and let out a steadying breath.

_Walk, _I thought.

My legs began moving automatically like machinery. I was just following orders from my mind; impulses, I guess.

_You know the way there, _my thoughts insisted.

I walked passed the abandoned lot and turned the corner. It was not a very long trip. Around an hour, maybe. I had an hour to think.

It wasn't as cold as the days preceding.

That was one thing to be grateful for then, I guessed.

Cars flitted down the streets once in a while, since it wasn't even that late; maybe nine or ten. Still, I didn't even bother looking to see if any cars were coming when I walked down the street.

Part of me hoped that maybe one would crash into me, anyway.

Eventually, I turned the last corner to a street with many large houses sitting a few meters away from the winding street. They were mostly made with white planks and brick and stood about twenty meters from each other. They actually were very nice. Compared to my street, this was like heaven or something. The front lawns were all neatly cut, and to my slight amusement, were actually surrounded by white picket fences. That part was a bit ridiculous and very funny, but, I didn't laugh this time.

_Which one is your house, Cas? _I thought to myself as I continued down the stone walkway and stepped over overgrown roots which cracked the nearly impeccable surface and grew near the street.

I knew his address before. I actually wrote it down with the brilliant plan in mind to egg it on Halloween. That would have been a blast, but I never got the chance. Well, I thought it would be. But now, it just sounded kind of stupid and childish to me. It felt like a ridiculous phase I had gone through and now looked back upon while cringing. In any case, I had his address in mind— it was on the tip of my tongue…

I wish I would stop shaking. It wasn't that cold, as we already established. Fear just kept a really strong grip on me and I couldn't tear it away, as I normally did. It was funny, actually. I never felt this way when some policemen chased me with their voltage guns or whatever those are called. But, when faced with the prospect of my gang members— my _own _gang members— getting to me, I was terrified. There was a layer of cold sweat all over my body, making me feel real uncomfortable.

_Calm down, _I told myself again. _Calm down, it will work itself out in the end, do you understand?_

There were small street lamps lining the sides of the street. I was able to calm myself as I looked into the amber glow, trying to pretty much blind myself from what had just happened.

_Where is his goddamn house? _I thought desperately.

I began pacing down the street and had to have done so about five times before I decided I just could not remember the address.

_Screw this. _

I felt a cold sense of hopelessness consume me. This feeling wasn't new to me. I had felt it hundreds of times. But, in each of those times, it only lasted a few seconds. I was able to dispel it with apathy and the thrill of the chase.

I just couldn't this time.

I tried to comfort myself with the thought that Castiel was bound to come out soon. In the morning, maybe. I mean, he wasn't a hermit.

_They'll find you way before morning, idiot, _I snarled to myself. _Why are you even running to the angel boy anyway, you stupid whore? He probably doesn't give a crap about you. It probably was all just a fake to get you to stop hurting people. All for his cause and all of that bullshit. _

I might as well have just died right there, with nothing going for me now that my gang was sure to be after my blood for what I had just done _all for his sake. _

All for the sake of someone who probably didn't even feel a thing for me?

"Screw this," I whispered.

Wow, I felt like crap. It was such a crushing hopelessness and anguish that it became too much. And it stopped.

I stopped feeling anything. Only, it was a stop in emotion that hurt so bad.

I walked over to the side of the road and just sat down on the sidewalk.

_You know what, _I thought in a mental-tone of apathy. _If they're going to come for me anyway, I might as well let them. I can't go back to my house either, for obvious reasons. _

I could still smell the burning of wood. The black fog was still at the back of my eyes.

I shook my head. I needed to stop thinking about this.

_Help me, _I thought desperately to an audience who couldn't hear me.

At that very moment, (wow, how cliché can I get? Am I writing a chic-lit novel? God. Listen to me say 'God' as if he had anything to do with it!) I heard someone speak.

"I knew you would come."

**End of Chapter 7**


	8. Sanctuary Under an Angel's Wing

**Chapter 8: Sanctuary Under an Angel's Wing**

Castiel was standing beside me, his dirty trench coat brushing slightly against my arm.

I wanted to curse at him and kick him in the crotch, but I didn't. I felt angrier than I had been in a long time, but I didn't move.

It was probably because of that blissful relief I suddenly felt. Wow, his presence was comforting. I almost stopped breathing for a second. There was hope. There was still hope for me to still have some life left to live.

There was someone who still cared. I mean, I thought he did. Why else would he approach me?

Suddenly, concern drew lines on his face.

"You're bleeding," he told me.

_I'm bleeding? _I thought, confused. I automatically reached up and touched my forehead like I knew all along that I was. I felt warm stickiness and a dryer coat of something around it.

"Oh, yeah," I said in a casual voice. "Yeah, that's what happens when someone slices your head open with a piece of glass; you start bleeding."

Castiel didn't say anything for a few moments.

Oh god, there my heart went again. It was beating away like some sort of frenzied bird with a death wish.

I looked away from him and waited for him to reply. It was a clever little technique I found that worked sometimes. If you want to see if a guy cares or not, pretend like you don't. Though, I wasn't even thinking about that then. I wanted to laugh and start freaking jumping like an idiot. I couldn't believe my luck that Castiel was actually here. Yeah, I hated him at the moment, but I felt like I was falling off a cliff and suddenly realized I had a parachute. That was in the form of a hunky angel boy.

Somehow, my worries seemed a bit…distant. They were there and in my rational train of thought I knew that Castiel could not stop my gang, but it was comforting, his presence. It really was.

I heard the swooshing of fabric and saw, out of the corner of my eye, Castiel sit down on the sidewalk beside me.

"I heard about the…fight you got in," Castiel said to me.

Well, that came as a bit of a shock.

"What? How did you know about that?" I asked, take aback. "Are you stalking me?"

"Well, not exactly," Castiel said slowly. "I had it worked out. The events that would inevitably occur…"

His voice trailed away and I turned to look at him. To my astonishment, I saw guilt etched on his face.

"So, now you're some sort of fortune teller, how lovely," I said.

"No, it's just that I knew of Crowley plans," Castiel said with a definite note of guilt in his voice this time. "He…"

"Yeah, Cas, I figured all that out," I said bitterly, once again letting myself hate him.

There was a pause.

And he said it anyway.

"Well, Crowley thought you weren't loyal," Castiel unnecessarily said.

I groaned. Why did he have to remind me?

In a momentary fit of annoyance, I finished his little Grimm Brother's genuine faerie tale. "Yeah, so King Crowley decided he would play a little game with me, you know what that game was? It was called _Lets see how loyal Meg is! _Also known as _Let's torture Meg! _So he deliberately sent me after you, realized that I cut some slack on you, and as a final test tried to make me kill a friend of Sam and Dean's. Another young one."

"Oh, and you didn't?" Castiel asked me.

I looked away quickly. I felt that burning loathing of myself rekindle.

"I couldn't."

"Why couldn't you?"

"Well," I said, allowing myself a pause. "Well, I didn't want to get my hands dirty unnecessarily."

"Is that all?" Castiel pressed.

I bit my lip and felt myself heat up. Why couldn't he just shut up about my mistakes and invite me to his sack of a house already?

"Oh, and you brainwashed me," I finished, finally standing up. "Cas, it's cold outside and now I'm that weird kid who has no friends. Have I proved myself to you now, oh mighty king, by ruining my life? Are you going to invite me in or not?"

Castiel's gaze hardened and I almost flinched.

"Don't treat this so casually," Castiel said in a harsher voice. "I'm not a charity house. I am sacrificing a lot for you now. Did you know this? You needed to pass a test before I let you under my care." As quickly as it hardened, his voice softened. "And…you passed it."

I had nothing to say to that.

Castiel's eyes were very blue. Very pretty.

I liked the way he moved. He had kind of uncertain steps sometimes, but they always seemed to land surely. Oh, my brave, tainted little angel.

"Which way is it?" I asked him, finally tearing my focus away from his beauty.

I guess there was no reason to hide it now.

I really liked Castiel.

I would never tell him, but I was so grateful for what he did for me.

So grateful.

Castiel stood up and stepped away from the sidewalk. The lamp outlined his body in a ghostly light. Well, I'd like to think angelic. I don't know why, but comparing myself to a demon or devil or something and him to an angel made our little thing seem so much more delicious.

And me more thankful, stupidly enough.

He walked purposefully to a large, white house positioned a few houses down the street. I followed him quickly, looking behind for a moment to make sure we weren't being followed.

He pulled his gate open, waited for me to get in, and shut it behind me. His house had four warmly lit windows climbing up the front of the house. Two large ones were partially covered by a white curtain flecked with feathery designs on what seemed to be the first floor, and two smaller ones went on either side of the house a bit higher up. There probably were more windows on the other sides of the house, but I didn't really bother to check.

He walked down a small, dirt path up to the door. The door had small window panes at the top that looked really fancy and expensive and actually had this brass knocker attached to it, even though they had a doorbell.

Castiel reached into his pocket and pulled out his key. With it and the powers of science, he opened the door, illuminating the dark steps below us in an orange light.

I stepped into his house. There were these overstuffed, white sofas and loveseats scattered all over this beautifully designed rug. They even had a huge flat-screen TV sitting atop a black table with white cabinets attached to it.

There were these really pretty designs all over just the first room that I stepped in, including the covering for the light blub. I felt a pang of jealousy. Why couldn't I ever be able to live like that?

As Castiel shut the door, a thought occurred to me.

"Oh, what will your mom say about me barging in on you like this, hm?" I said, in a teasing, bordering mocking tone.

"I don't have a mom," Castiel said bluntly. "Not anymore."

That came as a huge shock. If people in my neighborhood didn't have a mother, they were the worst bastards in the place. They were rowdy and complete idiots, even by our normal idiot-juvenile-delinquent standard. It also made me feel a little bit uncomfortable. I guess a bit ungrateful. I mean, I had a mother…

_Oh god, _I suddenly thought. _What will they think when they come home?_

I quickly pushed the thought out of my mind with ease. I didn't really care about them much anyway. No, honestly, I just didn't. But, a nervous thought still played at me anyway. Whatever, there were more important things to talk about.

"Well, what about your dad?" I said, trying to recover.

Castiel's eyes averted mine.

"Well…I have one. But…" he was trying to find the right words to tell me something that I couldn't figure out. "He has work that takes him many places around the world. You know, he runs the whole A.N.G. …thing." Was that bitterness I heard in his voice? "I…well, I haven't seen him in a long time."

I stared at Castiel, shocked.

"Wait, so you just live alone?" I asked him.

"No," he said quickly, shaking his head. "I…I have brothers and a sister. Well, I live with one brother and one sister."

"Really?" I said, thinking this through.

So, he had siblings, huh? You learn something new every day.

"So, that's what life's like in the household, you little angel?" I said, snorting.

"Why do you call me an angel?" Castiel asked. "I'm not an angel. Well, I suppose it is understandable, considering my father works at—" he began.

"No, no, that's not what I meant, knucklehead," I said, rolling my eyes. "I mean, you're just so _good_ and _innocent_."

"I am not," he said in a more abrupt voice. "Good? Maybe. But, I'm not even completely sure. Innocent? Certainly no."

"Yeah, really?" I said, starting to get a bit interested.

He walked over to the couch and sat down. I watched him and crossed my arms, but didn't move. What the hell was he talking about? He was totally the good guy.

When Castiel didn't explain, I said, "So, tell me why not."

Castiel scratched the back of his neck.

"We're getting off the subject," he insisted, looking back up at me. "I need you to tell me exactly what happened. And you need a band-aid."

I was going to ask him about it later for sure. This was the kind of juicy stuff that I needed to hear from this guy. Also, I had no intention of explaining the whole mess I got myself into, so only responded to the second half of the question.

"I'm fine, Castiel," I sighed, rolling my eyes. "It's just a stupid cut."

"No, looks like your head will slice open at any moment," Castiel insisted. He jumped up and rushed towards the kitchen.

I just awkwardly stood there. To give my hands something to do, I crossed my arms. But, you know, I felt kinda happy, even though I was still so screwed. Like, not the cheap kind of happy that you get after downing a bottle of booze, or even the exhilaration when you beat someone up. This happiness was just warm and mild. It was in my chest and made me feel calm.

He did care about me, didn't he?

I think a lot of people take being cared about for granted. I mean, people have the company of their parents, friends, teachers, whatever; and something I think they just ignore it and think they aren't cared about.

But I know I wasn't. I mean, not really.

But this was new. I could tell that he cared about me. Normally, I would use that to my advantage to get what I wanted, but this time, I didn't feel like I should. Well, I just didn't think I could. Or would even want to.

A few moments later, Castiel returned with a wet hand-towel and a first-aid kit.

I couldn't help but grin in exasperation and shake my head. Castiel was ridiculous.

"Cas, I didn't get into a car accident or anything. What do you need a whole first-aid kit for?"

"Um," Castiel said, a bit uneasily. "I don't know the magnitude of your cut. You may require additional assistance like…stitching."

"Oh my god, Cas," I said, laughing a bit. "It doesn't even hurt anymore." Well, it wasn't completely true. Once I actually noticed it, it did sting a bit. But I knew that it wasn't very deep and I had faced so much worse than that. I mean, I broke both my damn arms before. At the same time. This was nothing.

"I know," he replied.

He set the first-aid box gently down on the table and approached me with the cloth.

I felt my pulse quicken when he approached me.

He pressed the cloth against my forehead and the open wound stung even more.

I hardly noticed it.

Castiel was very close to me. I could feel his breath on my cheek and the warmth that his body gave off on my skin.

_You need to back off, _I thought weakly, but I didn't want him to.

That stupid, stupid Castiel. The angel boy I hated but so desperately lusted after. No, more than lusted after, actually. He was so close to me now and we weren't even fighting or trying to kill each other like the cat-and-dog relationship we usually had.

His expression was focused and set. He didn't meet my eye, though I tried to catch his.

My breath was a bit shallow.

There were these screams of protest inside me, telling me I needed to get away from him. That he was no good. That he ruined my life forever.

But, you know, I stopped caring about what these voices were saying. Nothing really mattered to me anymore, except to survive. And Castiel.

I wanted to jump into his arms and just sit there. It felt stupid and childish, but I wanted his protection. Maybe I just wanted him to tell me that it would be okay, that I was safe now.

I didn't even bother to stop the hatred that I suddenly felt for myself after that thought. Hell, I didn't even bother to acknowledge it. It was painful, but it was worth it.

A moment after he swiped the blood from my face, he backed away. All the while, he never made eye contact.

_Kiss me already, you idiot, _I thought at him angrily, but since he wasn't telepathic, he couldn't hear me.

He backed away, back to his first-aid kit.

Frustration bit at me, but I had to ignore it. I mean, I couldn't just snap right here and start snogging him. He would probably be so freaked out and just kick me out.

And that would be terrible on a whole number of levels.

I just…wanted to make him happy. This was so unnatural for me that I was disgusted with myself. Every man on his own around here; wasn't that how it went? I needed to only make myself happy and not focus on anyone else.

_It would make me happy to… _I thought suddenly to myself.

As Castiel dug in his little box, he began to talk to me again.

"Tell me what happened."

Again, I felt exasperation swirl inside me.

"Why do you want to know so badly?" I exclaimed, "Why do you care, its not like you could make them go poof or something for what they did."

"Just tell me," Castiel replied. "I need to know. Maybe I could help you."

"You can't help me, Doctor," I said with stiff sarcasm. "They burned down my house, I'm left on the streets now."

Castiel's eyes snapped back at me in alarm. "They…they burned down your house?" he asked quickly.

_Oh, now you're paying attention to me. Finally. I've been waiting, _I thought impatiently.

"Yes, Castiel. That's what I just said."

"Meg, you need to tell me what happened," he insisted.

I looked at him. Oh god was he doing the puppy-dog eyes? Where did he learn that from?

I sighed. He seemed so interested that I had no choice but to give in. Besides, a little attention never hurt anyone. I needed to start getting over this problem anyway, because it sure as hell wasn't going away. To be able to face it on like I usually did, I needed to get rid of that shame and pain I felt whenever I thought of it.

"Alright, fine," I said in a would-be-casual voice, dropping myself onto a loveseat without any say-so from Castiel (mostly for the symbolism of it because I thought it was hilarious. I read a lot of books actually, and I've come to have a soft spot for cheesy symbolism). But, he didn't seem to mind.

He just stood there and looked at me, one hand still inside the first aid kit.

I tried to begin, but I broke off. I felt a sinking sensation in my stomach once again as I remembered the situation I had landed myself in.

The warmth was slowly fading from my body.

And so, I told him my story, forcing it to be replayed in my mind…

**End of Chapter 8**


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